


Until We Meet Again

by Miryokae



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: I must warn you there might be feels here, M/M, also this is a Middle Earth setting, and is therefore absolutely not canon, perhaps a few tears if you're a sensitive flower, the story happens a few years after BotFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miryokae/pseuds/Miryokae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil is waiting for Bard to arrive at his palace in order to ask for his hand, but things do not go as expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until We Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ias/gifts), [LittleLynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/gifts).



There were no clouds to be seen in the deep blue sky that night. The moon and the stars were lighting the entire kingdom, creating a calm and peaceful atmosphere. A light and soft breeze was running through the leaves of the countless trees populating the Woodland Realm. No one here used the term Mirkwood; surely the forest was sick, but it was still beautiful, endlessly fighting the dark forces that tried to take over it.

 

The usually quiet halls of the palace were resounding with countless voices and music; a few elves were playing various instruments, while others were singing. The chorus, mingled with the constant laugh of the king, the whispering of the wind and the pleasant melody of harps and flutes, filled the air with harmony and enjoyment, affecting every living creature around. It had been a very, very long time, even for elves, since an evening such as this one occurred; for Thranduil, the Elvenking, was excited and cheerful tonight, and the intimate bond between him and the forest caused the entire kingdom to share his delight.

 

 

Thranduil had left his throne and was now sitting on his balcony, holding a glass of wine. His cheeks were red from drinking a little too much, but he was still capable to walk without crashing on the floor. It was a very festive evening, for he had announced his upcoming proposal to Bard, the king of Dale. Thranduil had insisted on doing it the human way, so he'd asked for two silver rings to be made. He couldn't stop looking at them, and he couldn't wait to ask his beloved's hand. Bard's ring was shining like a river of diamonds, interspersed with icy blue topazes that perfectly matched Thranduil's eyes.

 

His own ring was identical except for the gems, which were replaced by andalusites, pairing with Bard's irises. And how lovely his irises were. Thranduil always felt like he was drowning in his future husband's eyes when he stared into them. They were so full of tenderness and devotion. Bard had managed to make the once lonely and mourning Elvenking care again, to make him realize he could _ <em>love</em> _again. Thranduil himself used to think that he was incapable of such thing after all he had been through, yet there he was, about to get married. He was constantly smiling, and his heart was beating faster than usual.

 

He knew where he was going to propose Bard the moment he had held the rings in his hand. Thranduil's garden would be perfect. He had never shared this place with anyone before, not even his own son, but the arrival of Bard in his life had changed a lot of things. All the plants and animals there were cared for by them. There also was a little pond in which they liked to bathe and watch the stars.

 

Oh, how many nights they had spent watching the stars together. This place was full of wonderful memories. When he was upset or worried and Bard wasn't there, Thranduil simply laid on the fresh grass for a while and let every remembrance of his lover flow through him. He always left the garden with a wide smile on his face. This was where Bard had confessed his love to him, where they had first kissed, and where he had revealed his scars for the first time. He never wore his glamour in there. Bard had asked him not to.

 

 

The sound of broken glass and laughs distracted Thranduil from his thoughts. Feren, a precious friend of his, had been drinking far too much wine and was now a complete mess, to the amusement of many others. It didn't happen often. The Elvenking was pleased to see his kin so full of life, when the Woodland Realm was known for its quitness and melancholy. Last time a party similar to this one happened was to celebrate Legolas' birth. He couldn't imagine how things would be on the wedding day. He hoped he would remember. Wine was going to flow and Bard was, at last, about to understand why Thranduil owned the perfect host title.

Bard had seen his lover inhibited by alcohol more than once, but Thranduil had somehow managed to remain royal and worthy everytime he was there. The king of Dale couldn't say so himself. The mere thought of a drunk and embarassed Bard made Thranduil chuckle.

 

He had sent a letter a few days ago asking him to come as quickly as possible, for they had « things to discuss ». It took almost three days by horse to reach the palace from Dale. Bard should be there by dawn. Thranduil was wearing his most beautiful robe and had his hair braided for the occasion. He was beautiful, and wanted everything to be perfect. The wind coming from the forest didn't seem to share his opinion, though; it looked like nature preferred him annoyed with messy hair and frowned eyebrows. Bard would probably laugh at the sight if he was already here.

 

Thranduil was desperately trying to put his hair back in place when the breeze suddenly got stronger and turned into a freezing wind. The atmosphere's lightness faded away as hundreds of leaves blasted into the garden. He stared at the woods with concern. The trees were whispering, they were trying to warn him; something happened in the forest, something was wrong, and he was needed there. Bard could be in danger. The other elves felt their king's anxiety, and the entire palace fell under a heavy silence, all eyes fixed on Thranduil, waiting for orders. He did not give any.

 

 

He laid his drink on the edge of his balcony and hurried back to his room. His robe fluttered in the wind and caused the crystal glass to shatter on the floor, covering it with sharp splinters. Thranduil startled but didn't stop to see where the noise came from; he had lost the count of broken things centuries ago. _Bard could be in danger._ Thranduil had no idea where his lover was. The thought of the glass' fall being another warning came to his mind. He ran faster.

 

The Elvenking undressed and hastily put on some riding clothes. Little flowers fell from his hair and landed on his feet. He stood there for a moment, eyes lost into space, wondering why things never went the way they were supposed to. He took his sword and headed to the outside when he saw his reflection in the mirror. His features were marked with sadness and frustration. He never liked weapons; he was much more in his element a few minutes ago, celebrating his future wedding, waiting for his dearly beloved, _his_ Bard.

 

 

When he got out of the palace, his eyes widened with horror. A thick fog was coming out of the woods. The air was cold as death, and for a moment Thranduil thought life itself had run away from the forest. Such an opaque haze was often induced by spiders, but they had been slaughtered a few weeks ago, and it took longer than that for others to arise and grow. Distress and fear leeched into his mind.

 

He hadn't told Bard to be careful on the way. What if he had left Dale unarmed? Thranduil couldn't stand there a second longer. He needed to find him. He insisted not to be followed by anyone; they would only slow him down. He ran to his elk and told him to rush like he never had before. They both disappeared in the fog.

 

 

~

 

 

Thranduil's fear grew wider and wider every second. Panic was blurring his reason; he couldn't tell for how long he had been wandering in these dying woods, endlessly calling Bard's name.

For millenia, he had hidden his emotions and buried his pain; the safety of his realm and his child's happiness were all that mattered. But even these moments of delight eventually ceased to exist; Legolas grew up, and soon things were not like they used to be when he was a little and happy child, filling his father's hair with flowers. However, he would always be Thranduil's little leaf, even if their relationship had become more distant, despite the affection they felt for each other. It had saddened him, but he could live with it.

 

Then one day, that bargeman from Laketown awaked his long-dormant curiosity. Bard, his name was. A very interesting man. Loyal, extremely protective of his family, and very, _very_ handsome. Thranduil appreciated his wine even more, knowing who was taking care of the barrels. They talked from time to time, and the Elvenking happened to finally enjoy someone's company. He even started to write him letters. A few, at first. Then more, and more. Thranduil learnt things about Bard's past, about his family, about his life in Laketown. And he found himself getting more and more impatient everytime he was waiting for an answer. And then, the dwarves arrived. And they woke up the dragon.

 

Thranduil had thought his friend dead. Because of thirteen annoying, irresponsible and stupid dwarves. How could they even think they would kill Smaug? But somehow, Bard had put an end to the dragon's life, and had become the leader of the people of Laketown. He was the future king of Dale. And that pleased Thranduil very much.

 

They fought together during the Battle of the Five Armies; they had even spent the night before in Thranduil's tent. How amusing that evening was. Bard ended up so drunk that he fell asleep in his arms. Thranduil didn't want to wake him up; he was too fascinated by the calm and serene expression on his face. Bard always looked so serious, so worried about everything; but there, he just seemed.. happy. Relieved. Thranduil didn't sleep that night; the sun had risen before he could take his eyes off of the dragonslayer. That was the night he realized he felt more than friendship for Bard. It was one of his most precious memories. Dulled by the slaughter that followed the day after, but Thranduil remembered every second of it.

 

After Bard's coronation, they used their title to see each other more regularly. Thranduil finally met Bard's children; the fierce Sigrid, the brave Bain and of course, the innocent and adorable little Tilda. She loved to braid his long silken hair; it was « less messy than da's and softer, and you're very cute ». She reminded him of Legolas, before his mother passed away. Bard had taken care of three children on his own, and had raised them more than well. Thranduil was impressed and had wondered is there was anything this man couldn't do. He had learnt soon enough that no, there seemingly wasn't..

 

Thranduil was afraid that his feelings were not shared, so he had chosen not to tell a word about it. However, after a few months, he had decided to share something with Bard. To show him how important he was, without saying anything. Which is why, one day, Thranduil took the king of Dale to his garden. And to his great surprise, Bard confessed his love to him. He approached him and kissed him tenderly, causing Thranduil's heart to almost burst out of his chest for the first time in millenia. He felt alive again, and at this very instant, he had had the naïvety to think nothing would ever separate them.

 

 

But now, Bard was nowhere to be found. Thranduil was glad to know the forest by heart, for it was hard to see more than a few meters ahead, even with his sharp vision. The grim atmosphere raised even more doubts in his mind. He wanted to convince himself that his lover was probably lost in the woods somewhere, or perhaps he had been lucky and found his way out of the mist. He wanted to believe Bard was safe, but his instinct buried his hope in a deep grave before he had the chance to have faith in it. He was sure his beloved was there. He would find him, and they both would go back to the palace, and Thranduil would hold him tight for hours.

 

While he was trying to reassure himself, he heard a hushed but distinct voice. His ears twitched. He knew that voice. It sounded familiar, way too familiar. It was Bard. He knew it. He was alive, _Bard was alive._ He could hear him breathe. The elk recognized him too and hurried to the source of the sound.

 

Then a spider corpse appeared in their sight, then two, then three.

Then Thranduil saw blood. A lot of blood. Human blood.

 

He was terrified. It was his fault. Bard was hurt. He was dying and it was his fault. Thranduil was responsible. He should have known. He should have warned him. Where was he? He could hear him but he could be anywhere, he didn't know, he had no way to know the forest sounds were crowding in on him he couldn't concentrate _he kept calling his name but Bard wasn't answering._

 

The bloodstains got larger as he kept moving, there was so much blood on the ground and so many spiders everywhere– they were all dead, he had killed them all, but he was badly injured. _What had they done to him where on Arda was he?_ Bard's voice was weakening and slowly fading, but Thranduil felt his presence. He was close. He got off his elk and ran where his heart told him to. Then he saw him. He was laying on the ground, and his clothes were covered in blood. But he was still breathing, he was still alive, and there surely was a way to save him. It was the only thing that mattered.

 

« Love? Are you with me? » Thranduil knelt next to Bard and gently handled his head in his hands. His lover's eyes were closed, and his lips barely parted. The only thing that convinced Thranduil he was alive was the rough sound of his breath. His eyes filled with all the tears he had kept inside and panic marked his features. He needed an answer, but Bard wasn't moving. He wasn't moving at all. The elk joined them, laid right next to the injured man and pressed his head against him. He was worried too. Bard and Thranduil had found him as a calf, lost in the woods a few years ago, and had decided to take care of him. He was part of the family now. And he was afraid to lose one of his fathers.

« Answer me, Bard. Please say something, don't go, stay with me tell me you're alright _don't leave me alone you can't leave me alone I need you please_. » Thranduil had trouble breathing and felt a way too heavy weight on his aching shoulders. The forest remained silent. Thranduil placed his head on Bard's chest, and a long cry echoed in the air. After a moment, the dying king of Dale slowly opened his eyes.

« Don't worry, I won't.. go anywhere, my love. » was all he managed to say. He tried to move, but the pain was too intense. Thranduil lifted his head the moment he heard Bard's voice. His eyes were wide open and red from crying and his hair was all over his face and full of dead leaves. His scars progressively appeared; overrun by all the feelings flowing through him, he couldn't pay attention to his glamour anymore, he couldn't, he just didn't care. He was terrified and exhausted, but relieved and hopeful all the same. Bard was alive.

 

« You are.. beautiful.. when you don't.. hide your sca– » Bard's back arched and blood flowed out of his mouth. He felt like thousands of needles were piercing his veins. The pain was unbearable.

«  I am so, so sorry, I should have known, I should have told you to be careful and come with someone what happened to you where did these things come from– »

« Calm down, I'm with you, everything's.. fine... I, uh... I don't know, they came out of nowhere, I got bitten a few times, but I slaughtered them all by myself. You should be proud of me.  »

Thranduil smiled under his tears. « Now is not the right time for that, but I appreciate the effort. I'm taking you with me, the healers will know what to do. I need you to hang on, and don't fall asleep. »

« Thranduil.. I won't lie to you, I don't know.. if I can make it. I am glad you found me, I don't think I have much time– »

« Don't say that. » Thranduil was surprised by the coldness of his own voice. « Don't you dare. You slayed a dragon, it will take more than a few spiders to kill you. I lost a lot of time looking for you, but we're not that far from home. I know this forest better than I know myself. You will be safe in two hours. We'll go as fast as we can. » His tone softened. « Bard. Don't fall asleep on the way. _Promise me_. » Thranduil's eyes were looking for hope. Bard saw it. His beloved wasn't ready to admit he didn't have long to live. He probably never would be.

« Aye. I'll do my best. »

« I am sure you will. » Thranduil delicately kissed him, afraid to cause him more pain than he had already endured. He looked so frail, so fragile. He was unrecognizable. « Gi melin, meleth nín. Don't let go. » Thranduil whispered as he carried his lover to his elk. The animal waited for them to get on his back, then he began to run as if his life depended on it.

 

 

Thranduil kept Bard's head on his shoulder the whole ride, a hand buried in his hair, feeling his weak but steady heartbeat. Bard wanted to let go, he silently craved to fall into an eternal sleep in his lover's arms; he couldn't dream of a better way to leave this world. His skin burnt so much he wanted to rip out his own flesh to stop feeling the venom running through his veins. He knew his time had come, but he kept struggling against death to give Thranduil more time to accept what couldn't be changed. However, he wouldn't be able to do it forever.

 

 

~

 

 

Feren was the first one to hear the elk's approaching hooves and Thranduil's distant voice. He was holding someone in his arms. The elf recognized Bard. He was covered in blood. That was what the forest had tried to tell them. Thranduil obviously arrived too late to spare his lover deep wounds, but perhaps there still was hope to save him. Feren ran to the healers and told them to bring everything they could with them, for he didn't know exactly what happened to his friend's soulmate. He only saw a lot of blood from far away.

 

« Spiders. I don't know where they came from. They shouldn't have been there yet. » Thranduil said, when he saw Feren's questioning gaze. He kissed Bard on his forehead and caressed his face with his thin and pale fingers. Bard leaned his head against Thranduil's hand before letting the healers take him. Thranduil held him tight, then he let him go. « I'm proud of you, love. The worst has passed now. They'll take care of you. » Feren carefully drew near his king who was now nervously pacing, not sure how to put his thoughts into words.

 

« My lord.. Do you realize it might be too late? »

 

Thranduil stopped walking and looked up to the stars for a moment. « No. We can do something. I'm sure there's a way to drain the venom out of his blood. His wounds will heal over time. We.. We just need time. » His voice got lower and unsure. A single tear fell from his left eye. « I can't lose him, Feren. I won't go through this a second time. I know he's human, I know he will leave this world before me, I always knew it, but he can't go now. » Thranduil's gaze met Feren's. His bright blue eyes were full of doubt. « I– I can't.. I am not ready. » His voice broke as he spoke these words. And still, they weren't enough to express how he felt. But he didn't need words to be understood. His anxiety had taken over the palace and every elf in Greenwood was now waiting for news from the healers.

 

 

~

 

 

After what seemed hours, the healers finally came out of their tent. One of them called Feren. Thranduil didn't understand. Why weren't they asking for him? This was ridiculous. What on Arda happened in there that made his friend, who obviously wasn't in love with Bard at all, more appropriate to know first than himse– _no. This wasn't happening._

 

Feren slowly turned back to face Thranduil and stared at him for endless seconds. He said nothing. _No. It couldn't be._ The Elvenking fell to his knees, eyes wide open with confusion. This was impossible. Bard couldn't be gone. No. He couldn't be. Thranduil didn't feel his death. He was still alive. Then why did Feren look so helpless? The elf approached him, eyes now fixed on the ground.

 

« Thranduil, I– »

« He lives. I know he lives. » He gestured to the healers. « Can't they tell me themselves what happened? »

« Oh, he is alive.. for now. They thought it would be better if I told you. He.. He was bitten too many times for a human to survive. There's too much poison in his veins, they are surprised he made it this far. They cleaned his wounds and slowed down the process to give you some time, but he only has – »

«  _No dhínen, Feren!_  » Thranduil's voice was so loud it surprised everyone, even himself. His eyes wandered in the air for a few seconds. « How long do I have? »

« About two hours. Perhaps three, but not longer. Thran, I'm– »

«  I won't lose him. I swear to the Valar I won't. They're not taking him from me. » Rage and fury were now burning in his gaze. He was terrifying. If eyes could kill, Feren would be in the Halls of Mandos by now. « I will _die_ before they take him from me. Mark my words. He will live. Whatever it takes. » He faced the healers' and headed to the tent. They all went away, afraid of what might happen to them if they stood in his way.

 

 

Thranduil's wrath faded the moment he saw Bard. His eyes were closed. He looked peaceful, even happy, as if the past hours had never existed. « Meleth nín? Are you awake? » Thranduil softly laid next to him and caressed his hair. Bard opened his tired eyes and struggled a bit to straighten up in his bed.

« I am, my love. I don't know for how long, but I am. »

Thranduil rested his head on Bard's chest. The sound of his heart reassured him a little. « They didn't find anything to heal you? Nothing at all? »

 

The king of Dale felt his soulmate's sorrow, he saw in his eyes how desperate he was, but he didn't find anything inspiring to say. « I'm afraid they didn't. At least they gave me something to endure the pain. They told me it wouldn't last but... I'm grateful. »

« But you're still– You can't. You can't leave me. There has to be a way, I'll find something– » His voice broke. « Don't go.. Don't leave me alone, _please_... »

Bard gently put his hand on his lover's cheek and wiped his tears. « Thranduil.. I don't want to leave you, but you need to stop fighting it. We always knew – » A trickle of blood escaped his pale parted lips. Something broke in Thranduil's heart. « I'm okay, look at me. Thranduil, look at me. We knew this day would come. I will forever be thankful, for the wonderful years I spent by your side. » Another cough, louder this time. Bard wiped the blood of his mouth with his sleeve. « Look after the kids for me, will you? »

 

Thranduil's eyes widened with disbelief. Bard was giving up. He was surrending. « Of– of course I will but how– how can you say that? How can you be forever grateful when your forever will only last a few hours? And after that we will be separated, and _that_ will be forever. Our afterlife is not the same, we... we will.. » His voice was nothing more than a whisper now. « We will be together until _your_ end. I am fated to remain here, and I.. I will never see you again, I will never be able to touch you or hear your voice again, I– I can't, I can't do this, you can't say forever, you can't go.. you can't leave me here how am I supposed to go on if you're not with me? » He was trembling with fear. « Don't.. go away.. please... » He looked like an abandoned child afraid of the unknown, more vulnerable than he had ever been before.

 

 

Silence fell for a while. Thranduil had stopped crying, but his eyes and cheeks were still wet. He was staring into space in Bard's arms, quietly cursing the Valar and the entire universe. Why did his beloved have to be _human_? This was unfair. But what was he thinking anyway? That he would finally be allowed to live happily ever after? He wasn't a stupid character from a children's tale. During his long life, he had learnt how ruthless the world was, he knew it more than anyone. However, he had still hoped this time could be different. He had dived into denial the moment his lips had touched Bard's for the first time, and now reality was viciously catching up to him. This romance was always meant to end, he just wasn't ready to admit it. He never would be.

 

Bard ran his hand through Thranduil’s hair. Contrary to him, he wasn't scared. He was human after all, and all men eventually come to an end. His children were all grown up now, they would do fine without him. He was much more worried about his lover. Thranduil had promised him a few years ago that he wouldn't fade after his death, but Bard wasn't sure about that anymore. Thranduil had lived so long, he had done and seen so many things, and Bard didn't want him to put an end to his life because of him. Surely Bard was going to die, but his soul would always stay by his beloved's side. Thranduil's garden was full of memories. And they would never disappear. They would remain in his heart.

 

Bard couldn't help but wonder how much time he had left. The healers' herbs prevented him from feeling the pain, but his weariness kept growing; he could feel what was left of his energy slowly but surely escaping his exhausted body. He was doing everything he could not to fall alseep, and it was getting harder every second.

« Thranduil... Would you mind carrying me to our place? »

« But they said you need to stay in your bed.. » Thranduil answered with a low, low voice.

The king of Dale sighed. « I don't care about what they said, Thran. » _I'm dying, and I already can't move my legs anymore_. « The poison is spreading fast. It won't change anything if I stay here or go elsewhere. I want to be with you, somewhere private. Somewhere we can hear the birds when the sun rises and the flowing water, somewhere we can feel the grass on our skin. Somewhere we can feel _alive_. Take me to your garden. Please. »

 

 

Thranduil abruptly got hit by time. He had more time.And there was no way he would allow himself to waste it crying. Their final hours had to be perfect. He didn't want Bard to leave this world next to a weeping and helpless elf. And he still had something he needed to do. After all, it was the mere purpose of the day, before everything went wrong.

«  _Our_ garden, Bard. This place is as yours as it is mine. » Thranduil realized it would soon be only his the moment he finished to talk. Now wasn't the time for such thoughts. He chased them away, kissed his lover, then he smirked. « But as you wish, my king. Your eagerness shall be satisfied. » He carefully took Bard in his arms. « Let me take you to our honeymoon, meleth nín. We have a life to fill, until the very end. »

Bard was puzzled. They were already married, at least from and elf's point of view, and it wasn't recent. « A honeymoon? How spoiled I– wait, was it what you wanted me to come for? »

Thranduil didn't answer, but his eyes were full of stars. He winked, then majestically got out the tent, holding his lover. He headed to their sanctuary and didn't pay any attention to the dozens of perplexed gazes fixed on them.

 

 

~

 

 

The atmosphere lost its heaviness when they entered the garden. No one could imagine what kind of scenery awaited behind the giant two doors, and most people would never know. Thranduil had always ensured that his sanctuary remained forbidden to anyone but himself and Bard.

 

It had taken centuries to make the once desert area a rich and wonderful place; Thranduil used to spend entire days taking care of young seeds waiting to blossom, talking to future strong and tall trees. Soon, small animals chose to build their nests and raise their families there, and every wall was hidden under various species of plants. While they were growing, the trees had mingled their branches, creating a shield of wood all around the garden, only letting space for sunrays, wind and birds. It was a hidden forest inside the palace.

 

Thranduil loved when the moon lightened the garden with its white and pure luminescence; the light filtered by the trees and the reflects on the little waterfall and the pond filled him with calmness and serenity. In these moments, he felt like he was the only one conscious of the beauty of the moon, while the rest of the world was asleep. Nights were silent and cold to those who feared them, yet they had far more to offer than most days.

 

Thranduil laid Bard on the fresh grass, next to the pond; it was his favourite spot. They looked like two lovers enjoying a full moon's night, but their minds were a thousand miles away from each other. The king of Dale enjoyed the sound of the water, the quietness of the garden, the soft light coming throught the leaves.

For Thranduil, this night was different. The moonlight was harsh and cold. The silence of the animals weighed on his shoulders. And the waterfall sounded like an hourglass, reminding him that Bard was running out of time. It looked like everything was trying to make him more desperate than he already was, but he wouldn't let any sign of grief appear on his face. His beloved was happy, and it was all that mattered. Thranduil wanted to see a light brighter than the sun in Bard's eyes before they turned as dark as midnight.

 

He searched for the rings in the pockets of his robe, then laid next to Bard and put them in his hand. « I wanted them to match our eye colour. The blue one is for you, so that I can always keep an eye on you and protect you, even if I'm far away. Do you like it? »

« They're beautiful. These are the most precious rings in the world. » Bard kissed his future husband with infinite affection and euphoria, for he couldn't find the words to truly express how he felt. Thranduil blushed and a wide smile spread on his face, revealing his teeth. He rarely smiled like that, even with Bard.

« I asked Tilda a while ago how they were supposed to look. I know the rings are often made of gold but I don't like gold. It reminds me too much of dwarves. » Bard snorted. « What? Don't laugh, I don't want awful dwarves to ruin my wedding rings. They could steal them while we're sleeping. Silver is more elegant, more pleasant to watch and touch.. Just like you. » Thranduil tucked a hair strand back behind Bard's ear and moved forward until the king of Dale could feel his breath against his skin.

 

« You are the most wonderful person in this world, and I need you to know it. I need you to believe it. I made my ring looking like your irises for a reason. Whenever I look into your eyes, I feel like they're trying to draw me into them. I feel loved like I haven't been for a such long time I can barely remember. You have dazzling eyes, Bard. They speak so many words for you. That look you always give me makes my heart beat, it makes me live. More than you will ever imagine. You're all I want. You're my everything. Which is why I'm asking you today.. » He took his lover's ring in his hand. « .. if you want to spend the rest of your life by my side. My beloved Bard, my dragon slayer, light of my life.. will you marry me? »

 

Bard's eyes were as bright as the sun; shining in the dark of the night, proving the world that all hope was not lost yet. « Yes. Yes of course I'll marry you. » He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He knew Thranduil loved him more than anyone, but he wasn't the kind of person to make speeches about it. It was so beautiful Bard wished he could hear it a second time.

 

Thranduil placed his own ring in his beloved's hands, and together they passed them on each other's finger. Thranduil smiled. « We are now united forever, love. What's the phrase again? Oh, yes.. I may now kiss my _husband_. » He slowly approached Bard and stopped right before they could reach each other's mouth. Bard's gaze was fixed on his soulmate's lips. His breathing quickened. Thranduil waited a few seconds longer; he loved to see him getting impatient.

« You do realize that when my lips touch yours, you will eternally be mine? »

« Your lips touched mine so many times I think I can say I'm already yours, you know. » Thranduil raised an eyebrow. « I realize. Come here. »

« Your desires outshine everything else, love. »

 

 

Bard closed his eyes and waited. He finally felt his husband's lips against his own. This kiss was different from every other; it sent a powerful shiver down his spine that made his back arche and his body freeze and his eyelids widely open in surprise and his body falling under a warm and comforting feeling. It was like all the love they felt for each other, all the time they had spent together, all the things they had never said, like all of that was reunited in one single moment.

 

This was the last straw. Bard's eyes filled with water. He wanted to hold Thranduil so, _so_ tight, and never let him go. He wanted to bury his hands in his long silken hair, he wanted him to feel how strong and timeless his love was. He wanted to stay with him forever. Bard managed, not without difficulty, to put his arms around the blond's shoulders. His strength was leaving him but he clung to his lover as if he was life itself.

 

 

Bard thought he had accepted his fate; after all, it was only the natural order of things. Now, he wasn't so sure of it. At all. Of course he was to die before Thranduil, but why did he have his time with him reduced to not even two decades? A century was meaningless to an elf, especially to his lover who had lived more than he could ever imagine, so what about 15 years? Probably nothing more than a second. Bard would abandon his husband to live other lonely milleniums after a blink of happiness. He couldn't stand the mere idea of it.

 

Bard tightened his arms around him more and more; he didn't want to let him go, he was doing everything he could not to let him go. However, his body was getting weaker, and he soon didn't have enough strength left to keep holding his lover. His time had come. Thranduil caught him right before his head hit the ground.

 

 

« Are you okay? What's happening? Bard? Oh why are you crying, what's wrong? »

Bard spoke with a very low tone. His voice was almost inaudible, his eyes were nearly closed. « I.. I don't want to go, Thran. I can't leave when I know you will be alone.. for thousands and thousands of years, I– I'm running out of time and there's.. _nothing.._ I can do about it. »

Thranduil raised Bard's head and pressed it against his chest with all the tenderness in the world. A single tear fell from his eye. Bard didn't see it. « Don't worry, meleth nín. Close your eyes. You will be fine. »

Bard chuckled; a very rough and hollow sound. There was no sign of amusement in it. Every single sparkle of life inside of him was slowly dying. « Look at my veins, Thranduil. » His skin was interspersed with black lines. « My blood isn't even.. red.. anymore. I can't move, my entire body is.. getting heavier.. every second. I am.. struggling, against time, against sleep, and I know that.. if I give up, I will.. never wake up. And I don't.. I– I don't want this to happen. I know.. what will follow.. if I go. You know it too. I can't.. leave you.. » These last words faded under his ragged breath. He grabbed Thranduil's robe and buried his face in it.

 

Oh, how Thranduil wished time would stop, just for the two of them. He felt his beloved's lungs and heart weaken everytime he breathed. The Elvenking was fighting his own despair with fierce dedication. He didn't want Bard to leave with regret. He had to believe everything was going to be okay. Thranduil needed him to. « Think about it; what would be a better way to go than falling asleep right next to the one you love? I will be with you, until the end. And I am not going anywhere after that. We are married, remember? And you will stay in my heart forever, and I will take care of this place for you. For us. Look around you, Bard. We are everywhere in this garden. You will never leave this place. We will always, always be together. _I promise you._ »

« Will you.. keep it? »

« What? »

Bard toughly straightened his head so that his eyes could meet Thranduil's. His vision was too blurred to see the thin waterpath on his beloved's cheek. « Your.. promise. Look into.. my eyes, Thran. Will you keep.. your promise? »

_I don't know. I don't know if I can. How can you ask me this?_ « I will, love. Close your eyes, now. Lay down your head. Everything will be fine. » Thranduil answered, with a soft, low voice.

« Thranduil.. »

_Keep your composure. Don't ruin everything. Not now. Don't you dare._ « Yes, love? »

« Gi.. melin.. meleth.. nín. »

_Do not cry._ « And I love you too, light of my life _._ » _Stay strong, for him_. « Losto mae, meleth nín. »

 

 

Thranduil leaned his head forward and silently bid farewell to his husband in one last embrace. A kiss overflowed with love, passion and care. Burdened with regrets, betrayed promises, sorrow and desolation. Thranduil would never see these beautiful hazel eyes he cherished more than everything again. He would never hear Bard's laugh echoing in the quiet night. They would never watch the stars together. Thranduil couldn't retain his tears, he couldn't resist the craving pain and misery waiting to bury their sharp claws in his soul anymore.

 

He let go all the emotions he had kept caged inside to make Bard believe he was going to be fine. Thranduil was giving up; exposing his vulnerability to the world, raging against his own helplessness. He was holding his lover so, so tightly, he could feel their hearts desperately beating against each other. Bard's was slowing down every second, while Thranduil's kept going faster and faster, as if it was trying to find its way out of the bones and skin and clothes to be reunited with the other, to prevent it from desisting. His beloved was leaving, and he was going too far for Thranduil to follow. They would never be able to say goodbye. They loved each other way too much to do it. At least, they had tried.

 

Thranduil felt Bard's lips parting.

He felt his hands letting go of his clothes.

His head getting heavier.

His last breath caressing his skin.

His heart stopping against his chest.

And everything inside of him died.

 

 

~

 

 

Time froze. Seconds became longer than centuries. The once imperial and caring Elvenking was a mere shadow of himself; a ghost holding to someone now and forever lost. The trees, the wind, the water and the earth, even _life_ itself _,_ were dreadfully quiet.

 

The heavy silence enveloping the entire garden broke under the longest, most hopeless and painful cry the Woodland Realm had heard. The elves all felt it; they were losing their king. Thranduil's sorrow was consuming his heart and sanity at an appalling rate, and this time, there was no one to save him. Legolas was not an elfling anymore and he was far away now, and the last sparkle of light in Thranduil's life had just faded in his own arms. He had broken his promise the moment Bard was gone. He was not going to be okay. He was not going to spend his time thinking of all the wonderful things they had done here, and keep on living. He couldn't.

 

He was kneeling where he had felt Bard's lips for the first and last time; holding his dead body, desperately waiting for him to breathe again. But he would not breathe again. He would never come back. Such was the fate of living creatures. There was nothing to do about it.

 

Thranduil was exhausted. From all the centuries of loneliness he had endured, from all the time he would endure it again. He was wearied of life. There was no hope for him; he was condemned to see every single person he ever loved die because of his mistakes. He had seen so many beautiful things during his long existence, but nothing would ever surpass the sorrow burning his soul and turning his heart into ashes. Bard was his last light, shining in the deep blue sky, keeping his world safe and perfect. Now the light had faded away, and Thranduil's world would be forever darkened and empty.

 

He slowly tilted his head back, tightening his arms around Bard more and more, pressing his husband's head against his neck. Thranduil stared at the sky; the sun was rising and surrounded by shades of pink and orange. It was a beautiful sight. One of Bard's favourite moments of the day. The birds started to sing; life was waking up. It usually cheered Thranduil up, but it only broke his heart even more than it already was. The world was moving on, leaving him behind. He tried to scream, but no sound came out of his throat.

 

A single tear fell on the ground. A beautiful flower blossomed where the water touched the grass. It was beginning.

Thranduil was fading.

 

 

A light wind entered the garden, surrounding the two lovers. Thranduil didn't notice the plants blooming at his feet; he was burying his head in Bard's hair and clothes. Leaves and petals and seeds were flying around them both, carried by the breeze. Thranduil felt his time was coming, but he had never seen an elf die from grief before. His father had told him it happened differently for kings, for they were closer to nature than any other elves. But even Oropher himself didn't precisely know how things arose. Thranduil had no idea of what was waiting for him. Not that he cared All he wanted was to be reunited with Bard. And it wasn't possible.

 

Thranduil's cheeks were wet in tears, his eyes still full of water to shed. The more he was giving up on life, the more the wind gained in strength. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around Bard, afraid to let him go, afraid to lose him forever. It was like his emotions were affecting the air; he was now at the center of a very fast and powerful cyclone of leaves and flowers. Thranduil was only visible because a strange white aura was envelopping him, almost making him glow in the already bright morning.

 

He wanted to see Bard one last time before his life ended. He didn't know how long it would take, but he didn't want to take any risk. He straightened his head and slowly opened his wet and tired eyes. His breath suddenly stopped and his lips parted in disbelief and panic rushed through his veins. His irises were completely white, shining like a thousand suns. He couldn't see Bard. Thranduil couldn't see anything. He was blind.

 

The scream trapped in his throat finally found its way out. Filled with fear, resentment, fury and self hatred. He didn't recognize his voice when he heard it; stronger, sharp and low, loud and quiet. It was like a thousand other cries had joined him in a long, agonizing howl. As if every lost elven soul that had ever walked this world was reunited by his side, to let go every dark thoughts, every painful memories, everything that had caused them to fade.

 

The wind slowed down; for a moment, Thranduil felt closer to his kind than ever before. Overwhelmed by all these emotions that weren't his, but still so awfully similar. All the distress and regrets and surrenders he could feel like they were his own hurt as much as they soothed him. He could recognize himself in everyone of them. So many elves had died because they couldn't keep on living after the loss of their beloved one. So many had given up. He was not alone.

 

The whispers went quiet one after the other. The flowers around him were now quietly floating in the air. Bit by bit, Thranduil's panting breath softened, until it was almost inaudible. He closed his eyes, a serene smile curving his beautiful lips. He had spent the last 15 years of his existence with the man who had brought him back to life. Time had passed so fast. They had loved each other to death, until the very end. There was no point in fighting the irreversible, no point in trying to bring him back; the only thing he could do was embrace his own downfall. Everything would be quiet again. He was ready.

 

Thranduil leaned his head against Bard's. « Wait for me, meleth nín. Wait for me, until we meet again. »

His last tear fell from his cheek. A drop of bright white water, as radiant as his eyes.

And when it touched the earth, the Elvenking's last breath echoed in the entire kingdom, and he fell asleep right next to the man he loved.

 

 

~

 

 

Thranduil hit the ground without a sound. His hair tips and his long robe began to turn into petals and seeds and wind, first lazily flying around him, then going faster and faster. He was becoming nature itself; where each seed touched the earth, a graceful plant blossomed. Flowers and trees no one had ever seen in Middle Earth. And the most exquisite ones were all flourishing next to Bard.

 

It was a beautiful and tragic sight; the misery and desperation that achieved Thranduil didn't consume the love and hope burning in his heart, and they were now giving life to countless spores, craving for a chance to exist. Craving for light. All of them were filled with Thranduil's emotions. They were all a part of his soul; a small amount of passion blooming to show the world how the romance that had caused his death had been worth every second of it.

 

The whole garden was soon covered with beautiful plants; what would later be a gigantic tree was growing behind Bard's head, and every single flower was turned towards him. They needed him. He was their sun. He was everything they lived for.

 

 

Thranduil's body had now completely transformed into a wide cyclone of all the most gorgeous things Arda could provide. But there was no more room for him here. He was already everywhere, either as plants or memories. He had offered Bard everything he could; his heart, his soul, his sanctuary. And it was even more beautiful now. The brunet would be so happy if he could see what Thranduil had done.

But he wasn't ready to stop yet. The windstorm was guided by Thranduil's most intense desires, and all he had wanted in his last seconds was to be with his whole family. To see Bard hidden under his children's hugs, to see Legolas one last time. His departure had broken his heart. He would have never thought his son would leave him one day.

 

The wind headed to the garden's doors. They were gigantic, made of dense stone and wood. Thranduil used to love these doors. They were the gates to his refuge. The storm destroyed them in less than a second; it was unstoppable. Roots, roses and ambrosias covered the wall, and a curtain of leaves and other flowers quickly concealed the entrance. It looked like the hidden access to an enchanted world. Thranduil and Bard's world.

 

 

~

 

 

A path of greenery was blossoming everywhere the cyclone passed. It didn't harm anything, despite its strength; no trees were uprooted, no animals were scared. They all knew who it was, and they all knew what he was doing. Thranduil was healing the forest; camellias and violets and calla lilies were growing where the earth used to be barren, and bright green leaves were taking over the dying trees, bringing them back to life. No one would dare to use the term Mirkwood anymore. It wouldn't last forever, not as long as Sauron existed, but the Woodland Realm hadn't been that vigorous in centuries.

 

The air current divided in two when it got out of the woods; one aiming for Dale, the other one for the north, to find Legolas. It didn't take long to reach the Lonely Mountain. The cylcone slowed down when it entered the city, looking for Bard's children. Sigrid and Bain were the first two in sight; they knew something was wrong when the wind reached them, but they couldn't put words on it.

 

It took a little longer to find Tilda. She instantly felt Thranduil's presence and stepped out of her house like a whirlwind; she'd always been closer to him than her siblings, and she had revealed herself to be incredibly perceptive for a human. Perhaps because she was still a child when she'd met him, and had grown up around the wisdom of elves. She had been the first one to ask him to be a part of her family, the first one to call him ada. And she had always been obsessed with Thranduil's hair and beauty and genuine kindness and everything that made him himself.

It had taken her years to realize he wasn't an angel, after countless and countless reminders from Bard, Sigrid and Bain, and even from Thranduil himself. But deep inside her, she was still convinced of it, and nothing would ever change her mind.

 

When the wind caressed her hair and skin, she knew. The happiness on her face immediately disappeared. No one had seen her with panic in the eyes for years. Not since the dragon had died. Yet there she was, standing still as if time had stopped. Then she fell on her knees, without feeling the shock of the rock against her bones. She had lost her fathers. And she would never see them again.

 

A first tear fell from her eye, then a second, then a third, and soon she couldn't stop crying. The breeze enveloped her; petals gently touched her skin and wiped away every tear from her beautiful face. It felt like a last hug. She enjoyed every second of it. Tilda had always been driven by her emotions; she was crying and smiling and desperate and happy at the same time. But she knew they would be together. Thranduil would never allow to be separated from Bard. She knew they would live happily, wherever they were.

 

Her ada wasn't gone yet, she could feel it. And he used his last moments in this world to tell her before someone else did. She would give anything in the world to see him and her da again, but at least she had said goodbye to one of them. The wind whispered something; she didn't understand, but she knew what it meant.

« I love you too, ada. Kiss him for me, would you? »

 

She heard a distant and hushed laugh in response. The seeds lost in her hair blossomed into little flowers, like the ones she always filled Thranduil's hair with. Then the wind faded.

Tilda prepared her horse and headed straight to Greenwood.

 

 

Far away from there, lost in the north, an elf cried.

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

Years had passed since the greatest king the Woodland Realm had ever known was gone. Tilda lived in the palace now; she had been more than welcome by the elves, who had known her since she was a litte girl.

 

She almost never left the garden, except to visit her siblings. She loved it too much to go away for long. She preferred the contact of nature rather than humans. And Bard was buried there; Tilda had thought it would make him happier. She liked to talk to him in the evenings. She missed him so much.

 

She took care of the elk in her fathers' sanctuary, where she'd lived the happiest hours of her childhood. The animal had become her best friend. They spent hours buried in the flowers, remembering all the moments they had lived all together here. She often fell asleep in the huge tree, of which branches looked like antlers, cradled by the sound of water and bird songs.

 

But what she cherished the most was something else; not the flowers, nor the animals or the calm of Greenwood.

She lived for the wind.

For everytime there was wind, she could distantly hear Thranduil and Bard laugh together.

They hadn't been separated.

And it was all she needed to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo~  
> So this was my first fic! I worked on this for about a month (I'm a snaaaaail), so I hope you appreciated it :D  
> If you want to express your anger or sadness or happiness or whatever, be my guest! I heard feedback is always nice :3
> 
> Also, I would like to thank Amelia for her support and of course, being an amazing beta *w*  
> Thanks to Ally too, for saying this fic was sublime and beautiful. I got dust in my eyes ._.  
> You're both awesome and I love you ♥


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